The Taming of the Bastard (3 page)

“You’re
actually dreaming about him?” Alex asked, as I relayed my tale of
woe one night a week or so later.

“I’m so
exhausted I knocked Brian’s limited edition Wallabies jersey off
the wall last night. When the glass shattered it pierced John
Eales’ autograph. I thought Brian was going to have a
coronary.”

“Who’s John
Eales?”

“Oh, like, some
legendary rugby player or something. I don’t know. Adele tried to
tell me about him but it went in one ear and out the other. I don’t
know squat about sport. I offered to have it replaced but Brian
said it’s worth about ten thousand dollars.”

“For a rugby
jumper? Seriously?”

“That’s what I
said, shortly before I dropped Adele’s favourite Baccarat champagne
flute on the tiles. I mean, I was in shock. I don’t have that kind
of money to throw around and it’ll take another decade to save
it.”

“It’s a wonder
she hasn’t given you the sack.” Alex’s voice trailed off as her
head turned in the direction of the double doors. I looked to see
what was more important but I needn’t have bothered. In the back of
my mind I already knew. Sam had completed the six minutes and
thirty-two seconds it took for him to grab his dinner, eat it and
return the empty plate before heading back to the main bar. He’d
walked through the door and as usual, ignored me, even though I was
the one who took charge of the remains. I had no idea why he
detested me. I’d done nothing to deserve his disregard apart from
ignoring him too.

Raising his
eyebrows, somewhat, he stopped on the other side of the counter and
began to flirt with Alex. “You look ravishing in that new uniform,
Alexandra.”

“Alex. It’s
Alex.”

“Well, red
suits you, Alex.”

Alex’s chest
puffed up so far she could have floated away with a slight breeze.
Peeved, I slammed Sam’s plate into the sink and shoved my hands
into the dish gloves. Had he no taste at all? Our uniforms were one
step away from German sideshow alley. Even Miranda Kerr couldn’t
make them look good.

“What’s
your
problem?” Chantelle hissed.

I concentrated
on the bubbles in the sink.

“Are you
jealous ‘cause he’s talking to Alex?”

I couldn’t
speak. I couldn’t even nod. I didn’t know why I was behaving this
way. It might have been disgust that Alex was being sucked in by
Sam’s flirting or worse still, maybe I was annoyed that he wasn’t
giving me that attention. Either way, I hated not being sure. And I
hated him more.

“That fluff
round the edge sets it off, doesn’t it?” Sam continued. He fingered
the frills Alex wore at her already over exposed breast and I held
my breath. I was afraid he would be lost forever if he leant any
closer into her cleavage. She’d been known to lose coins down
there. And probably a mascara wand or two.

“You think so?”
Alex preened.

“Definitely.”

I glanced at
them out the corner of my eye. Sam’s attention was fully on
Alex.

Oh for Pete’s
sake, I thought, this is the final straw. He’s doing this purposely
to get at me. He’s trying to make me react.

And, deciding
someone had to do some work I pulled of my gloves and went off to
deliver an order of apple strudel. Chantelle and Alex were no use.
They were behaving like strudel.

About an hour
later, I was clearing away after the shift when I felt a presence
in front of me. Thinking it was Bob about to give me the ‘don’t
come back tomorrow’ talk after I’d dropped another tray of glasses,
I waited to the last possible moment to raise my eyes over the
servery counter.

There he was.
Sam. He was looking at me and, damn it, smiling. Just like in my
dream. I wanted to tell him to nick off but I was dumbstruck.

“You must be
Millie,” he said.

I could feel my
head beginning to swim. I looked from side to side. He was clearly
addressing me, as I was the only one there called Millie. “Um,
yes.”

What else could
I say? I hadn’t changed my name and ‘duh,’ though appropriate for a
thirteen year old, didn’t quite fit the bill. I was agog. Sam
didn’t converse with me, except to ask for his fish. He was the
centre of my horrendous fantasies, not someone I spoke to.

“We’ve never
been properly introduced, so I thought I'd better do it.” The smile
grew wider. His teeth gleamed and it was like he put a little spell
on me.

If it hadn’t
been on me already.

“I’m Sam.”

“I know.”

“I work in the
bar.”

“Is that the
job description ‘chatting up customers’ falls under? ‘Cause that’s
the only work I’ve ever seen you do.”

“Well played.
But you can never take PR lightly.”

“Is that your
job? PR?”

Ha. I totally
had him if it was. Being a PR genius and all.

“Among other
things.”

“Please don’t
list them. I have a pretty fair idea already.”

Sam began to
laugh. It was a deep, guttural and very sexy laugh and that was
when it had happened. The spell was broken. In the moment that
conversed like two normal individuals I was no longer
Millie-Queen-of-the-Klutzes, I had returned to my usual self, the
girl who could give as good as she got, the one who could see
straight through people like Sam.

At least I
thought I could. His chest was sort of getting in the way.

“Guess I’m
sprung.”

“Guess so.”

Next to me,
Alex kicked my shin. This was not Sam’s usual flirting style. It
was almost, well, sincere.

“So,” Sam
continued, “It’s my mate’s birthday tomorrow and we’re having
drinks. I was wondering if you’d like to come.” His sea green eyes
crinkled as he said the word
come
and, beside me, I sensed
Alex’s breath quicken. She sounded like she was going to do just
that, all over the counter.

I grinned to
myself. I bet he was used to girls accepting his proposals, but I'd
met men like him before and I wasn’t about to give in. Not even if
he did have fantastic shoulders.

“We kick off at
seven. I can pick you up if you like.”

“That sounds
lovely, Sam, but I’m busy. It’s girls’ night and I don’t get to go
out often on a Friday. We’re going to
Lux Bar
.” I nodded
towards my colleagues. “Maybe another time.”

Then I filled a
glass with cool water and offered it to Alex. She was hovering
between incomprehension and a faint.

Sam nodded and
said it was fine. We’d do it another time. Then he went back to
whatever it was Bob had employed him to do.

Alex removed
the glass from her lips. She blinked in confusion. “Are we going on
a girls’ night? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“She made that
up, Alex.” Chantelle replied.

“Why?”

“So she could
turn him down.”

“I don’t
understand.”

“Oh, for God’s
sake. Go and fold a serviette or something. She’s trying to play
him at his own game.”

I was? Wow.

Chantelle
turned back to me. “Do you realise what you’ve done?”

I nodded,
congratulating myself for seeing sense and possibly being the first
woman in history to have turned Sam down.

“That man is
the sexiest thing alive. Why in God’s name did you knock him
back?”

I took a dirty
plate and began to scrape it into the bin. I knew what I’d done and
despite what anyone thought, I was not going to put myself in line
to be the next statistic on his ‘Shag your way around Australia’
tour. “He’s smug. I don’t go for smug.”

Chantelle shook
her head. “You’re such a princess, Millie. That man is a god. Every
girl here’s been after him for weeks and when he finally takes his
pick, you knock him back.”

I turned on the
taps, pushing my hands into the water. It wasn’t a case of being a
princess; I simply couldn’t go out with a man who was more
beautiful than me. If couldn’t even speak when he was around, how
would I cope if he kissed me? Besides, just because I thought he
was hot didn’t mean I had to participate in his ridiculous flirting
game. It wouldn’t lead to anything and I had goals.

Chantelle
picked up a dry tea towel. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ if he offered
to put his shoes under my bed.”

“Yes, but
you’re a tart, Chan’. You’d probably install a shoe rack so he’d
feel more at home.”

*****

Sam’s
invitation forgotten, I arrived home two hours later to find Paige
still awake. She was snuggled up in the corner of my bed with
Pookie, her stuffed kitten, under one arm and my computer nestled
between her knees and lap. She glanced up as I entered, her face
unapologetic about the fact that she was in my room again and at a
time when she was meant to be asleep.

“Why aren’t you
in bed? I know it’s a Boarders Long Weekend but little girls should
be asleep by ten o’clock,” I chastised, flipping off my shoes and
flopping onto the side of the bed next to her.

Paige
straightened. She turned the computer screen to face me, deflecting
my question as she had seen her mother do so skilfully, so many
times. “Mummy will have a fit when she finds out about this.”

I peered at the
screen. Once again, Paige had been reading my emails. I had to
remember to put a password on my laptop, though knowing her; she’d
find a way to hack it.

“You haven’t
told her, have you?” Paige asked.

I took the
computer from her and began to read. The message was from the
agent, the one I’d contacted about the house. He’d sent a whole
folder of extra photos. Pictures designed to entice, seduce and
delight. Oh dear. That was my house and until this minute it had
been my secret. Of course, everyone knew I had the dream, but I
hadn’t divulged the amount of recent progress I’d made with anyone.
Now, I was sharing it with a precocious primary schooler.

“Do you like
it?” I asked, deciding to play her at her own ignoring game.

“No.”

I frowned and
nestled in next to her. Her hair smelled of Johnson’s baby shampoo
and her little body leant warmly into mine. Giving her a squeeze, I
opened the slideshow of photos. “But look… it has a swimming pool
and views,” I pointed out, trying to win her over with my
enthusiasm.

“So does the
Sheraton in Phuket. It doesn’t mean we have to live there.”
Sometimes I hated that she was so worldly.

“Please don’t
tell Mummy yet, Paige,” I begged.

“Why?”

“Because it
might not happen. I need to go and see the place, go to the bank.
There’s lots of things to organise.”

Paige’s little
lip went out. “Like leaving us.”

I put the
computer down and hugged her. “I can’t help that. Life goes on.
Things change. And you’re getting to be a big girl. One day soon
you won’t need me anymore. Then where will I be?”

“You can be my
P.A. I’m going to need one. My social calendar is chockers as it
is.”

I smiled. Only
Adele’s child could invent a job at will. “But I want to do this
job. Don’t you want me to be happy?”

Her cherub lips
twisted and pursed. Then she answered, “Yes, but I’d rather you be
happy in Perth.”

I was excited
for my first night out in a month and
Lux Bar
was the
favourite hangout of the girls I worked with. They raved about its
joys from the beginning of every shift, causing me to wonder what
could be so great about a venue where the men knew more about shoes
than I did. Not that that would take a great deal of effort. If the
shoe was glittery and sandal-like I was content.

From the moment
we stepped inside the door I realised what I had been missing.
Lux Bar
was velvet, red and dark, so much so I could fall
over and nobody would ever notice. It had tonnes of seedy little
corners and booths that were so plush I wanted to sink into them
and never get up. There were men with no shirts languishing along
benches and the dance floor was like a wall of the most beautiful
chests I had ever seen. In this domain Kylie Minogue was the queen,
which in a room full of queens was not to be sneezed at. Having
only frequented venues for Under Fives in recent times, it was also
lovely to see some people my own age and a décor that didn’t
consist of
Frozen
posters. Pleased with what I saw thus far,
I followed the girls into the throng.

After propping
ourselves up at the end of the bar, we ordered cocktails and three
plates of nibbles from the kitchen.

“I’m so glad
you talked me into this.” I said, as we sat and ogled.

“You needed it,
Chica
. Getting over a Sam addiction requires the support of
your friends. It’s like a Greek mourning period,” Alex replied,
unable to avert her eyes from the hard, oiled chests on the dance
floor. “Oh, look at him. It’s a grown up Justin Beiber....”

“And thanks to
you guys, I don’t have to spend any money to get cured, either.
Thanks for arranging all this, Chan’.”

“That’s what
friends are for,” Chantelle smiled, absently. “Oh, he’s
niiiice
.”

Alex
straightened on her stool. Her eyebrows raised just enough to show
interest. “Do you think I should ask him to dance?”

“No,” I
said.

“What about
that one in the dark shirt? Think there’s any way....”

“NO!”

“Do you think
they’re
all
gay?” Alex gave a sad sort of pout. It didn’t
matter how many ways you told her, she seemed convinced the gay
community was an untapped resource.

“Most likely.”
I handed her a cocktail and pushed the finger food in her
direction. “Just enjoy the view and drink your drink.”

“It’s such a
pity, isn’t it?”

“Not if you’re
gay. And male.” Chantelle laughed. “And we’re here to look, not
hook up. There’s a lot to be said for looking.”